


Cicada

by coveredkoi (serenamaes)



Category: Peacemaker Kurogane
Genre: M/M, Shinsengumi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-12-23 22:11:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11998959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenamaes/pseuds/coveredkoi
Summary: Hijikata leaves Souji a gift as they part ways, and Souji reminisces about their time together in the Shinsengumi.





	Cicada

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Matsuoasuka](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Matsuoasuka).



> Inspired by Alice Nine's "Kasumi".

“Hijikata-san, we shouldn’t--”

“We can’t afford to waste this moment, Souji.” A gruff voice brushed against his ear. The strong, callused fingers inched their way lower. 

“Hijikata-san,” a moan, a gentle caress, and the scent of cherry blossoms and tobacco. The sounds of their bodies crushing together filled the room, and Souji could swear for a moment, his heart stopped beating. 

Then he woke suddenly. He was covered in sweat, and the humidity of the room was worse now that the sun was rising. He squinted, fighting the sunlight. Was this part of the dream as well? After a moment or two of intent focus, he heard the whirring spiral of cicadas. A smile flickered on to his lips, and he laughed. “It can’t be.”

Summertime. It was hard to believe that nearly a year ago, he had been in Kyoto as a member of the Shinsengumi. The thought alone made something within him ache. He frowned and looked down at his hands. He had never understood how they betrayed the years of wear and training; his fingertips remained soft. The thick layers of skin had found some way to blend in with the rest of his body. He had always perceived the uncanny ability to heal and remain human despite the bloodshed a curse, but those around him praised him for his talent of saving face. If anything, his porcelain skin, ethereal beauty, and skill with a blade were evidence leading to the devil inside.

_Time was catching up with him now._

He shook the thought from his mind and looked outside. His sister must have opened one of the doors while he slept. It was a clear day, and he could hear children laughing a few houses away.

“Tetsu! No fair! That was mine!”

“Your fault for being slow!” 

“Mom! Tetsu stole my dango!” 

Souji sat up and hugged his knees. Tetsu. How was he doing? He wondered if the boy was causing problems for—

His eyes widened and he sat up straight, frantically. He looked around the room, hoping, praying that this were a dream. “Hijikata-san,” he breathed, standing. “Hijikata-san!” His voice was a whisper, but he swore he was screaming. “Hijikata-san!” He was running now, flinging open the remaining doors that blocked his view of the outside world. As he made his way to the porch, his knees gave way and he fell forward, struggling to catch his breath. He cursed his body for being so weak, and fought at the hands encouraging him back to bed.

Why couldn’t he heal now?

He remained quiet as the doctor performed the daily tests and continued to look outside. A rather curious, white flower had been planted in the tea garden.

“Well, how is he, doctor?” His sister’s voice, anxious yet calm like a pool of water, came from his left.

“It seems he is maintaining what health he has left,” the man groaned as he stood, then adjusted his hakama. “As long as he continues to stay in bed and rest,” his voice grew stern, and Souji remained indifferent. “He will not have an episode.”

Souji could see his sister nod, and he ignored the rest of the conversation. He didn’t want to know how much longer he’d be alive. Not without—

The door slammed shut behind him and he came back to reality. He had not seen his Hijikata for many months now. If he stopped to think about it, they must have said goodbye once they arrived in Tokyo. Kondo ignored Souji’s desire to remain with the group and fight to the death, claiming the boy was stubborn and incapable of thinking in his fragile state. Travel had made all of the men weary, and ultimately, Souji’s strength had depleted immensely. His body felt heavy as he tried to remember their farewell.

“Take care, Hijikata-san,” his eyes watered and it got quiet for a moment. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” A smile that had never felt so troublesome, “I’ll be waiting for you to come back, okay?” 

Hijikata opened his mouth, and Souji began to cry. 

He would never know it, but soon Kondo’s surrender to the imperialist army would shake the majority of the remaining troop, and Hijikata would lead the others to finish what they had started. Souji prayed that his lover was healthy, and forced himself to smile at the many memories of Hijikata’s frustration and stress. He remembered the way the man’s shoulders tensed as Tetsu’s footsteps came closer to the room, and the way the corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a moment of confidence. He looked toward the flower once more, and heard Hijikata’s voice.

“Souji, do you know anything about hanakotoba?”

“Hijikata-san, do you intend to impress me with some poetry?” Souji twirled a finger on his lover’s bare chest. He giggled as Hijikata furrowed an eyebrow.

“Souji . . . ” the older man groaned and brushed a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. 

“Hijikata-san, I jest.” He kissed the man’s jaw. “Please tell me.” He paused for a moment. “I promise I’ll be nice.”

The corners of his lover’s lips quirked upward briefly before tightening into his characteristic stern line, “Well, I . . . ” As the man paused, Souji swore that he saw pink spread over his cheekbones. Just for an instant.

“Yes, Hijikata-san?” Before Souji realized it, Hijikata had pulled his smaller body against him to the point where he could not look up. “Ah!” He laughed. “Hijikata-san! What’s gotten into you?”

“The white egret flower.”

Souji was quiet for a moment. “The,” he snorted, “The what?” He couldn’t hold back his laughter and he felt the tension instantly in the strong man’s bicep.

“The white egret—you know what? It isn’t important.”

“Hijikata-san! W-wait!” He stifled his laughter in the man’s chest and caught his breath. “Please. I’m so sorry. Just tell me.” He wiggled out of the man’s grip and looked into his eyes. “Tell me about this flower.”

Hijikata avoided Souji’s eyes. “The white egret flower,” he gained the courage to look up at the younger man, “symbolizes a love so strong that it penetrates dreams.”

Souji blushed and sat up on his calves. He felt a bit guilty for laughing, “Hijikata-san, I—”

Hijikata sat up and placed his finger over Souji’s lips. Even without speaking, Souji understood: The two would not be able to spend much more time together. The flower, impervious to time and illness, was a glimpse of the hope that had been ebbing away.

“Hijikata-san,” he whispered, removing the man’s hand from his mouth. “I hope this flower blooms forever.”

The demon answered with a gentle kiss as rain began to fall outside.

Souji’s sister had joined him while he was lost in his thoughts.

“Mitsu,” Souji spoke softly. “Please, tell me the name of that flower.” 

She smiled softly. “We had it planted shortly after you arrived here.” Her smile grew. “I am glad that you are able to see it bloom. It’s a white egret flower.”

Souji felt the tears returning, waiting to overflow.

“I hope you didn’t go through the trouble of planting it for my comfort.”

Mitsu shook her head. “Not at all, please don’t worry yourself like that . . . Actually,” Souji felt his chest tighten as she took a moment to organize her thoughts, “a man asked us to plant that for you. He claimed to be a medicine peddler that knew you in Kyoto.” She turned to look at Souji, “Yoshitoyo,” Souji’s heart stopped. “Yoshitoyo Ishida.”

“Hijikata-san,” Souji covered his mouth and the tears fell. A combination of Hijikata’s family name and the medicine he sold during his youth. “Hijikata-san,” He made himself laugh, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Mitsu offered a clean handkerchief and Souji politely refused. “Please,” he said, “would you excuse me?” With a nod, Mitsu stood, walked to the door, and bowed before leaving the room.

Souji looked to the door, catching view of the white, ethereal orchid in the remaining sunlight. “Hijikata-san . . .” As the wind blew, he swore that he could see his lover smile in the breeze.

And in Aizu, Hijikata swore that he heard his name.


End file.
